


24/7

by h_itoshi



Series: FumaKen Week -18 [4]
Category: Sexy Zone
Genre: Domestic, Fighting and making up, M/M, just slice of life really, student life au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 15:13:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13929708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h_itoshi/pseuds/h_itoshi
Summary: Moving in together still feels surreal. Waking up next to Fuma every morning, smelling his hair, feeling his smooth bare skin against his own before he has to get up and start his day somehow a little magical no matter how many times it happens.Prompt: A shrunken sweater





	24/7

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tamamushigami](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamamushigami/gifts).



> You may not know this, considering I mostly write porn, but domestic shit is my forte. So I chose this prompt today because I had lots to study orz and I finished in a magical 35 minutes.   
> Hope the quality's better than a 35 minute fic.

Moving in together still feels surreal. Waking up next to Fuma every morning, smelling his hair, feeling his smooth bare skin against his own before he has to get up and start his day somehow a little magical no matter how many times it happens.

Kento was a little nervous, he must admit. Getting an apartment together felt huge, like a step into adult life he wasn't sure he was ready to take. They'd already been dating for two years when Fuma casually brought it up now with him starting university as well, and Kento's stomach had been fluttering for more reasons than one.

Their relationship was stable, they loved each other, but there was still a safety in not living together. The space if they needed it, some alone time. If they'd suddenly get into a massive fight and break up things could just go back to how life was before.

“Don't overthink it too hard, okay?” Fuma had said, and Kento smiled sheepishly because his mind was already making up worst case scenarios. “I really wanna live with you.”

And so Kento agreed, because he really wanted to live with Fuma too. Come home to him every day, cook together, shower together, sleep together. Chat about silly things in the middle of the night, take care of each other when exam panic clutched at one of them. He even looked forward to cleaning together.

It had all been surprisingly smooth. He'd expected something to feel awkward, wondered how they'd deal with being in each other's presence 24/7, but it barely took a day for it to feel natural. Fuma cooked while Kento studied, they both sat at either end of the couch with their phones, they left and came back home at their own times. It was all like how Kento's life had been before, except Fuma was always around. Their chat conversation changed from deciding times to meet and recitals of their days into shopping lists and notifications if any of them were going to be late.

But there were also things that bothered him. Fuma's tendency to leave dirty dishes everywhere he'd been was a little annoying, and also how he'd always leave chargers plugged into the socket when he didn't use them. And the wet towels scrunched up instead of hung properly in the bathroom. They were small things, but Kento still found himself a little irritated with them if he had a bad day already.

Like today. University had just been a drag, the final lecture three hours long and the professor had such a sedative voice it was hard to listen to him for more than five minutes, even though he continuously pointed out the importance of what he was saying. Kento left class with a headache that decided not to pass even after some fresh air and water, and the old train on the ride home didn't help.

When he unlocks the front door, he hears some variety show from the tv and the lights are on, and he sighs because it's so much nicer to come home to this than a dark, quiet apartment.

“Hey.” He calls, and Fuma absently says hey back from where he sits on the couch with his macbook in his lap, face illuminated by the screen as he's pretty obviously playing some game rather than studying.

Kento shrugs out of his jacket and grabs a hanger for it, trying to ignore all the undone dishes piling in the sink because neither of them could be bothered yesterday, but his eyes find the kitchen table and he can't help himself.

“You know, doing the laundry includes folding it.” He says pointedly, and Fuma slowly looks up from his screen, turning to meet Kento's eyes.

“Yeah, I'm going to.” He says, a small apologetic smile the only thing that saves him from an argument right now. “Sorry, I was just taking a short break and ended up here.”

“It's alright.” Kento sighs, setting his bag down and walks up to the table to get rid of the laundry mountain Fuma placed there. “You hungry?”

“Mmm.” Fuma agrees, and Kento starts sorting out shirts from the mess of socks. “Kinda.”

“What are we eating tonigh-” He cuts himself off as he picks up a light blue fuzzy piece that looks like it would fit a five year old, then whines as he realizes what it is. “Fuma seriously!?”

“What?” Fuma looks up in alarm, eyes widening when he sees the miniature sweater Kento holds up. “Oh.”

“You can't wash this in the machine, it's angora!” Kento calls, waving the sweater a little in frustration because it's one of his favourites, one his grandmother brought him from Paris.

“Well how would I know, it was on the floor in the bathroom so I just added it!” Fuma calls back defensively and Kento rolls his eyes.

“If it's not in the basket don't wash it!” He groans, demonstratively tossing the sweater on a chair and grabs a T-shirt instead.

“Sorry okay, I was just trying to be helpful!” Fuma snaps, and Kento turns back to him, seeing in his eyes that he's picking this fight. “Maybe you shouldn't leave your clothes in the bathroom if they're not dirty!”

“Well then at least read the labels before tossing them in the machine!” Kento goes on, too tired to be able to stop himself from arguing back. “Pretty sure it says handwash only!”

“Yeah sorry, I'm gonna start reading the label of every single one of your garments so I don't ruin them.” Fuma rolls his eyes. “Excuse me for not owning any expensive ass clothes that can't handle a normal washing.”

“Oh wow, okay, that has absolutely nothing to do with it and this is about the only expensive thing I own.” Kento says, the acid coming out way too easily in his tone. “And now I don't own anything, thanks a lot.”

“Jesus Kento, it's a shirt, I'm sorry!” Fuma calls, closing his macbook and setting it aside. “What else do you want me to say? Want me to knit a new one or what?”

“Would you, that might be a better use of your time.” Kento bites back at him, and Fuma rises, giving him an unimpressed look.

“I'm going out for a while.” He says, and Kento suddenly feels like throwing something at him. “You're being unreasonable.”

“Fine, just leave me here with all the household work when you've been gaming all afternoon. Great.” Kento says, the words coming out cold but he feels the tears in his throat.

“I'll be back.” Fuma says simply, stepping into his shoes and grabbing his jacket from a hanger before the door slams closed behind him.

Kento slumps into a chair and hides his face in his hands, the tears welling up in his eyes and he feels so hopeless. He hates fighting with Fuma, he really hates it, but it's inevitable when Fuma's so stubborn and Kento's such a know-it-all and they're both tired. When an argument starts, none of them stops.

Deep down, Kento knows Fuma only meant to help and it was an accident. But it still sucks because he loved that sweater and he doesn't know if he can find another one like it. And now he doesn't know when Fuma will be back because he has a tendency to leave before fights get really nasty, leaving Kento alone in the apartment with all his angry feelings and his return can take anything from ten minutes to two hours.

In the end, when he can breathe again and he doesn't feel quite as much like killing something, he decides to take a shower, wash off all the bad feelings as well as he can.

The hot water helps, as does the headache pill, and he purposely drops his dirty clothes in the empty washing basket and hangs his jeans on a hook for use tomorrow. When he turns off the water, he hears movement in the apartment, and he draws a breath, preparing himself to swallow his pride and apologize for lashing out like that.

But as he opens the bathroom door, bundled up in his bathrobe, he smells food and immediately realizes how hungry he is.

“I got dinner.” Fuma says, and Kento looks at the dinner table, cleaned of laundry (that has instead moved to the couch but what the hell) but instead there are chopsticks, waterglasses and two takeaway containers that smell delicious.

So Kento just makes a small acknowledging sound and comes over to sit down next to Fuma by the table.

“Sorry I ruined your shirt.” Fuma says as he places a container before Kento and then opens his own.

“Sorry I yelled at you about it.” Kento replies, opening his own box to find chicken fried rice and he loves Fuma so much.

“I'll get you a new one.” Fuma goes on, picking up his chopsticks and then glances up at Kento. “I promise.”

“You don't have to.” Kento says softly, smiling a little as he picks up his own chopsticks. “It was an accident.”

Fuma smiles back, and Kento feels his body relax that last bit that the shower couldn't do for him, and he knows that even if they fight sometimes, living with Fuma is definitely the best decision he's ever made.

 

~*~

 

 


End file.
